Longing Bird

There was a little bird once dwelt in my heart, he built a nest on the tree branch hanging by the window of my heart with the webbings spun from sunlight in lengthwise and the webbings spun from moonbeam in breadthwise. The only wish of the little bird who bathed in the daybreak’s limpid and cold dews to cleanse himself and dry his wet feathers in warmth of rising sun, was to meet a charming little maiden bird who will keep the nest he built warmed with him as a life-long companion. His wish was nothing more than a wish. No matter how patiently he waited and waited, and anxiously called and called, the little charming maiden bird never visited the nest he built exclusively for her only. One chilling night, when the stars poured down on earth, the lonely little bird who was perched on my heart’s tree branch to receive a little charming maiden bird, flew away in the darkest nightly air, leaving the nest he built with his utmost sincerity and the desire he would not be able to abandon, hanging on my tormenting heart’s branch.